


Ambush

by Alethia



Category: High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: Coming Out, Faux Death Threats, M/M, Mockery, don't click the links, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-23
Updated: 2007-09-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriella was a beautiful, brilliant girl. It was <i>such</i> a shame Ryan would have to have her killed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambush

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during _HSM 2_. Originally posted [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/275139.html).

It was hard to get a word in edgewise, what with the impassioned groove Gabriella had gotten herself into.

“—and you should _see_ the teen suicide rates I looked up—” She took a breath and Ryan wildly grasped the reprieve from lecturing and, like, impending death.

“Gabriella! I am not gay.”

“Ryan, it’s okay,” she soothed. “I’m here for you.”

“Can you go away?”

Had Ryan _missed_ something? His hats weren’t more sparkly than usual. He hadn’t been getting facials or manicures any more often (excepting the times sports mangled his hands to mere shadows of their former glory… _those_ times were completely justified). And he was even playing baseball with the guys once in a while. He was perfectly manly.

So why, exactly, was Gabi coming up to him on a random Tuesday, on her lunch break, to express her love and support for Ryan, the limp-wristed poofter?

“I know it must be hard,” she continued, in her painfully earnest way. “But you have friends. We’d understand.” Apparently not enough to _listen_ to him.

Gabriella was a beautiful, brilliant girl. She’d given him the chance to be friends, for which he would always be grateful. And she had a lovely voice. It was _such_ a shame Ryan would have to have her killed.

“There’s nothing _to_ understand. I know it’s not a normal thing for you, but you’ve made a mistake.”

Gabriella sighed the sigh of one who had tried. “Look, you don’t have to talk to me, but you should talk to someone. Sharpay or—or—Chad. Anyone.”

Ryan snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure Chad would be real supportive.”

Gabriella’s eyes got wide and Ryan rewound to think about what he’d said—

“I didn’t mean that—”

“Ryan…are you being persecuted?” Her lip trembled.

“No! Gabriella, I appreciate the concern, but really, you’re worrying over nothing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have yoga.” And a hit to put out.

Ryan hurried away. He glanced back, only to see Gabi watching him go with a mournful look on her face, so he shook his head and sped up.

Raul would have him stretching for half their session at this point, just to calm him down. Now Gabi had even ruined his yoga for the day. She really did deserve to die.

***

“Fulton, I need to have someone killed,” Ryan announced grandly. Fulton jumped in his seat, but subsided when he saw that it was Ryan and not Sharpay out for vengeance.

He stood in greeting, seeming small behind his desk. “Mr. Evans. I can’t quite believe I’m saying this, but your flair for the dramatic might even outweigh your sister’s.”

“Who’s being dramatic? I’m talking murder for hire, here.”

“Which is quite impossible, come to think of it,” Fulton finished to himself. He refocused on Ryan: “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to fire someone?”

“Fire? No! I want you to destroy her soul. You can do that, right?”

Fulton sighed, full of woe, and shook his head. “Sadly that is out of the bound of my powers. I can, however, schedule you a massage.” He picked up the phone, as if to do just that, and Ryan glared.

Then again, he _was_ feeling all tense and irritated and achy. It might not be a bad idea.

He acquiesced. “Fulton, you have a point. Make the masseuse a woman, please,” he said as he turned. “The last thing I need is a joke about a guy rubbing me off.”

***

The thing about his life was that nothing could ever be easy. Gabriella couldn’t stay content to give him soulful looks across the room. No, she had to tell someone—hello, Taylor, next on his “To Die” list—and once that Pandora’s box was opened, well.

“Ryan! How could you have kept this from me?” Sharpay lamented.

There was no going back.

“It’s really okay,” she continued. “Not even that surprising.” She fluttered her hands distractedly. Her rings glinted in the sunlight, like the sparkles being thrown off the pool. But she was not a being of light.

“Blood traitor,” he accused hotly. Ryan shot a dark look at the server who glanced at him purposefully as she walked by. Wildfire, gossip was.

That statement shocked Shar out of wringing her hands and into a more commonplace glare. She sat up and tilted her glasses down so he could get the full effect. “And if you’re still protesting your straightness, quoting _Harry Potter_ probably isn’t the best choice.”

***

An hour after his massage and he was all tense again; it was all Gabi’s fault. And Taylor’s fault. And now he couldn’t even indulge in his daily tanning session because Shar was holding court out there and he didn’t want to hear any more from her.

Since the rest of his day was ruined, he might as well put his terrible vengeance into motion.

“Javier, I need someone killed. No, make that two people. You look like the lawless, seedy sort. Help me out with that.”

Javier looked at him with soft eyes and gently set down the towel he was holding. “Was he your lover? Did you have a fight?”

Ryan made a supremely frustrated noise, but kept himself from stomping his foot. A man had to have some dignity, after all. “I hate you and everyone else in the world.”

***

Troy grabbed him on his afternoon break. Well, he didn’t grab, so much as thump him on the back and then retreat a step. He looked at Ryan from under his ridiculous hair and talked quickly as he pulled off his apron. “Hey, man, I, uhh, I talked to Gabriella and—”

“I’m not gay! I’ve had sex! With women,” Ryan added, just to make that clear.

And, well, there’d really been the one, but with Troy’s motley crew of virgins that so counted.

“And that’s what turned you gay?” Troy asked, clearly confused.

“I hate you all,” Ryan declared and then left.

***

“Dude, what’s this about me persecuting you?” Chad asked. He plopped down in the seat across from Ryan in the now-empty dining room. It was way past closing, not that anyone was about to kick him out. They hadn’t served him in a while, though.

The day had snowballed out of control. He was apparently gayer than Elton John, Liberace, and the Teletubbies and _no one_ was surprised. Chad was just icing.

“If a stray bullet should pierce Gabriella’s heart, don’t be surprised,” Ryan said darkly.

“I’m not persecuting you,” Chad insisted.

Ryan really focused on Chad. He looked annoyed. Oh, please. Ryan was already the king of that club. “I might start persecuting _you_ ,” Ryan said.

Chad blinked, taken aback. Then he smirked and kicked his feet up on the table. Ryan idly wondered if that was a firable offense. “I don’t really care who you’re sleeping with, man. You know, just as long as it’s not me,” Chad shot back.

“What, you didn’t notice those steamy nights in the Members Only shower? Pity.”

Chad rolled his eyes. Then he shook his head. Then cracked a grin. He didn’t say anything but Ryan could see the amusement written all over him.

“Good to know you’re enjoying yourself.” Ryan might have pouted…in a manly way.

“Dude, you have no idea,” Chad said. He grinned some more.

***

Ryan woke with a jerk, that _awareness_ seeping into him. Someone was here, watching him. He turned his head and opened one eye. Sharpay came into blurry focus.

She did not look pleased. Great. She’d probably worked herself into a tizzy over the way he’d dismissed her. Next she’d be picking out all the marshmallows from the Lucky Charms purely out of spite.

“Ryan!”

“G’way. Kids need sleep.”

His blanket was unceremoniously yanked off him. Cold air shocked him lucid and Ryan shot up, grabbing hold of the retreating warmth without thought. Pretty good reflexes, if he did say so himself.

“Shar!”

“What? You’re wearing sleep pants. Or are you trying to hide your love bites?”

Ryan gave up on the blanket as a lost cause and slumped back onto his pillow. “Oh, God, it wasn’t a dream.”

“I want to talk about this leaving me out thing. And by ‘talk’ I mean I want to explain,” — she said ‘explain’ like it should naturally accompany medieval torture devices —“all the ways it’s wrong for you to keep your sister in the dark and all the terrible retribution I shall wreak.”

“Wreak?” he asked.

“And you will sit there and look properly remorseful.”

“How are you using three syllable words at, like, three in the morning?”

“It’s seven-thirty.” She stomped her foot at these interruptions. “And stop ruining my flow.”

Ryan bid adieu to the idea of sleep and rubbed a hand over his face. “Then let me dam it forevermore: I am not gay.”

It did put a stop to the soul-rending rant she looked to be formulating. “But everyone’s saying—”

“Oh, _everyone_? Since when do you give a crap what the peons whisper about?”

Shar cocked her head, considering. _Why_ was she dressed and in full makeup already?

“That may be the single most sensible thing you’ve ever said.” She plopped onto his bed, all traces of the irate uber-bitch now gone. “Let’s plan a terrible revenge.” She said it with relish, like suggesting shoe shopping or teasing hapless pool boys.

“I’ve got it covered.” Ryan scrubbed a hand over his face. Maybe he’d get a facial today.

Shar’s lips twisted into a disappointed moue. “If you’re sure…”

He nodded and yawned. Then he flicked his hand at her and toward the door. “I have a hit list. It’s decorated in purple sparkly pen. You would approve. Now, run along.”

She stood and tossed her hair. “Fine. Go jerk off. You’re a jackass in the morning, anyway.” She flounced out, quite elegantly.

Shar gone, Ryan flopped down with a sigh. Yeah, no way he would get back to sleep. Alas.

He snatched his iPhone off his dresser and idly flipped through his e-mail. Did he feel like oatmeal or an omelet? Decisions, decisions.

An e-mail from Gabriella cut into those thoughts. He opened it with that sense of impending doom in his stomach, the one that usually meant utter destruction. Or bad sushi.

To: dancemaster@evansco.com  
From: sugarandspice@gmail.com  
Subject: I’m sorry

Ryan,

I’m sorry for the way I brought up your sexuality yesterday. In retrospect I see that it was insensitive of me to ambush you like I did. I never meant to make you defensive or unhappy. All I wanted to do was tell you how much I support you and how I will always be there for you, no matter your life decisions. Please don’t be angry with me.

Love,  
Gabriella

Oh, he was going to make her _suffer_ before she died. Ryan quickly hit reply and typed out the first thing that came to his mind.

To: sugarandspice@gmail.com  
From: dancemaster@evansco.com  
Subject: Re: I’m sorry

Evil wench,

I do not accept your apology. I shall wipe all traces of you from the Earth. I suggest you put your affairs in order. Oh, and watch out for glints in your peripheral vision.

Ryan

To: dancemaster@evansco.com  
From: sugarandspice@gmail.com  
Subject: Re: I’m sorry

You don’t need to hide anymore! Accept and embrace yourself like you’ve embraced the drama!

To: sugarandspice@gmail.com  
From: dancemaster@evansco.com  
Subject: Re: I’m sorry

Oh, I _embrace myself_ plenty. And of course I’ve embraced drama; I’m a _drama kid_. That’s what we do.

I maintain this has nothing to do with liking dick.

To: dancemaster@evansco.com  
From: sugarandspice@gmail.com  
Subject: Re: I’m sorry

I feel dirty now.

To: sugarandspice@gmail.com  
From: dancemaster@evansco.com  
Subject: Re: I’m sorry

Would you like to get dirty with me?

***

Not surprisingly, his last e-mail didn’t get a response.

***

Done with his morning yoga, Ryan again scrolled through his e-mail. He opened the one from Chad tentatively. Was he now going to offer heartfelt support? Cloying declarations of lifelong friendship, despite the fact that they’d been talking regularly for maybe a couple months?

To: dancemaster@evansco.com  
From: triplethreat@gmail.com  
Subject: Since I’ve enjoyed myself so much 

I thought you should, too. 

http://www.pinktorrent.com/torrent/1193889/gay_porn_Poker_Party_Orgy_Spanky_s_Boys  
http://www.pinktorrent.com/torrent/465209/Gay_Porn_Cruising_full_movie  
http://www.pinktorrent.com/torrent/1731731/Wank_in_the_Woods_2005_William_Higgins_wmv_set_gay_porn

Chad

The titles startled a laugh out of him. While horrified, of course, he had to appreciate the man’s sense of _style_. It almost rivaled Ryan’s own.

Gabriella proclaimed her support; Chad laughed at him and then sent gay porn. Ryan should have expected as much.

***

“Ryan! Wait up!” Zeke’s voice rang out after him and Ryan stopped instinctively. He turned back and waited for Zeke to catch up. The other boy dodged people in the hallway, holding his chef’s hat to his head and—

Zeke was carrying something. Zeke was giving him that tentative smile Ryan was starting to hate.

Zeke was going to have to go on the list, it seemed.

“Hey, man. How are you?”

“Not gay,” Ryan said firmly.

“Oh. Really? But Gabi said—”

“Don’t worry about what Gabi said. I’m having all traces of her lineage wiped from the Earth.”

Zeke blinked and visibly didn’t know what to do with that. “Oh…kay. Um, anyway, I have something for you. I made them last night. Well, baked them last night and then frosted them this morning. They’re really good.” He thrust the tin into Ryan’s hands.

Ryan looked down and debated, but what choice did he have? He popped the lid…and stared. And stared some more. 

Zeke fidgeted. “Don’t you want to try one?”

Ryan raised his eyes. “You made me sparkly rainbow cookies,” he said faintly.

“It’s, like, a gesture, you know? And they really are good. I have this special recipe that—”

“They’re rainbows! With sparkles!”

An older couple eyed them askance as they walked by. Ryan didn’t even bother looking contrite. He was too busy glaring mightily at Zeke.

Who seemed remarkably unaffected by his glare. “I know! It took me forever to find the sparkles, but I remembered seeing them in this one store, even though I couldn’t remember which store, but my mom found it and picked them up for me yesterday and they’re even edible!”

Zeke looked at him expectantly, like he desired some response other than Ryan banishing him to the torturous, fiery depths…

Ryan shut his brain down, turned, and walked in the other direction. Mommy wouldn’t appreciate her club being turned into a crime scene.

“Does that mean you like them?” Zeke’s voice plaintively called after him down the hall.

***

Ryan raised an eyebrow at the e-mail that Chad had bcced him on. Apparently Gabriella was attempting to formulate a plan. Asking Chad probably hadn’t been the smartest move.

To: sugarandspice@gmail.com  
From: triplethreat@gmail.com  
Cc: nothingbutnet@gmail.com, cremedecreme@gmail.com, brainsoverbrawn@gmail.com, composedcomposer@gmail.com, queenbee@evansco.com, jaseman@gmail.com  
Bcc: dancemaster@evansco.com  
Subject: Re: Ryan – I need help!

Nah, we should get him a hooker.  
Get him broken in.

Chad

>Guys,  
>  
>I really need help.  
>Ryan won’t listen  
>to me. He keeps saying  
>he’s straight! Any ideas?  
>  
>Gabriella

***

As if Chad’s lovely suggestion of a hooker hadn’t been enough, he had also done Ryan the favor of forwarding their responses.

To: jaseman@gmail.com  
From: triplethreat@gmail.com  
Cc: sugarandspice@gmail.com, nothingbutnet@gmail.com, cremedecreme@gmail.com, composedcomposer@gmail.com, queenbee@evansco.com, brainsoverbrawn@gmail.com  
Subject: Re: Ryan – I need help!

Well, you got the hard part right.

Chad

>It’s like a stalagmite, you know?  
>Like hardened silt that builds up over  
>time into rockin’ sculptures.  
>  
>Jason  
>>  
>>What’s a catamite?  
>>  
>>Zeke  
>>>  
>>>Where? www.catamitesrus.com?  
>>>  
>>>Taylor  
>>>>  
>>>> Nah, we should get him a hooker.  
>>>>Get him broken in.  
>>>>  
>>>>Chad

Ryan’s horrified laughter caused much staring from the tennis players just coming back. They looked at him like, ‘why is that weird boy slumped back against the wall and holding his stomach?’ Ryan’s reputation would never recover.

It was kind of worth it.

***

The text message Chad sent was mildly worrisome in the way that everything had become mildly worrisome. Fulton changing the color of the lettering on the tennis flyers? It seemed ripe with portent to Ryan.

But rather than waiting for a chance to get to one of Lava Springs’ complimentary— _member_ —computers, he’d gone the old-fashioned route and texted him. It _must_ be important.

yoga room. after work. gay group meeting. be stealth.

Was Chad organizing a gay orgy in the yoga room? Ryan’s opinion of him raised a couple notches. That took some skill and, well, gumption. Mommy would have a fit if her yoga mats got stained with anything…unseemly.

Well. There really was only one way to find out.

***

It was not a gay orgy. That, at least, would have offered the opportunity for some scandalous pictures and valuable future blackmail material. No, this was so much _worse_.

“Has anyone ever considered that Ryan might not be gay?” Shar asked. Her voice was loud and shrill in the way that said she was unhappy to be in the presence of the underclass and she wasn’t afraid to show it. 

Ryan idly wished he could see her expression rather than the back of her well-coifed head. Also, he loved his sister more than words could say. Because yeah, _had_ anyone considered Gabriella’s wild flight of fancy might be wrong?

“Umm.”

“Well…”

“No,” Taylor answered, firm. The agreeing head-nods and general hmms of consensus that Ryan could see and hear from his perch behind a potted plant were _totally_ unwarranted.

Gabriella was so gonna die.

“Because he says he’s not and if I know my brother—and I do, by the way—he’ll wreak a great and terrible vengeance for this.”

“Yeah, the melodrama makes him seem totally straight,” Taylor said dryly. 

“Guys, that’s not why we’re here,” Gabriella cut in. “We’re here to talk about what we can do to help Ryan.” Gabriella stood by a white board…and she had a _white board_. With a _list_. She’d drawn a rainbow and a smiley face.

Her soul was not long for this world, he swore on his honor.

“Can I say, again, that I wasn’t persecuting anybody?” Chad asked.

“Can I say no?” Troy shot back at him.

“Duly noted,” Taylor said to Chad, as if just trying to get him to move on already.

Chad wasn’t deterred at all. “I mean, even Ryan agrees that I wasn’t persecuting him.”

Gabriella nearly pounced: “You talked to Ryan about it?”

The side of Chad’s face visible to Ryan showed that he’d just realized his mistake. “Ummm…I might have mentioned it.”

“He probably eased into it by straight-up announcing that he wasn’t persecuting Ryan,” Taylor joked.

“Well…”

“No way,” Zeke said, awed.

“What did Ryan say?” Shar asked. She actually sounded genuinely curious.

“That he might persecute _me_.”

Shar laughed. “Yeah, that’s Ry for you.” Seeming to remember who she was with she cleared her throat. “I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him if you’re wrong.”

“He’s been going around saying he’s going to have me killed. He…wouldn’t do that, right?” Gabriella looked worried, kind of wringing the marker in her hands. Good. She should be.

“Do you have your affairs in order?” Shar asked her. _Loved_ his sister. He should buy her shoes. Or a pool boy. One of the two. He’d contemplate that.

“This isn’t helping. We need to come up with a plan of action. Troy, you’re good at strategy, right?” Taylor asked.

Troy’s eyes widened. “Well—I mean, what with Ryan—and—umm,” he stammered.

Ryan tried to hold in his laughter. If he were someone else who was not being tragically maligned by the entire world, he might even enjoy himself.

Zeke finally piped up: “Maybe we should put on a pride week at school. There’s a gay pride parade every year, right?”

“Nah, I think a girl should go make out with him and show him he’s not straight. Since you started it, Gabi, it’s only fair that it be you,” Chad offered. He batted his eyelashes at her. She blushed and looked away.

Now that was a shame. Ryan might have held off on the hit if she’d agreed that making out with him was the way to go. Oh, the things she would never know.

***

Ryan had thought some salsa would put him in a better mood and even though he was alone, it had.

Right up until he noticed Chad standing in the now-open door. Ryan stopped dancing immediately and Chad looked up to meet his eyes. Hmm.

“Dude, is that _Ricky Martin_?” Chad asked, askance.

Ryan grinned. “Fine, feign horror, but you’re the one who recognized his voice. In a song you’ve never heard before. In _Spanish_.” Ryan used his remote to lower the volume.

Chad shook his head and actually walked into the room. “All I’m sayin’, Ricky Martin? Doesn’t help you in the straight department.” He took up a post a few steps away from Ryan and shook his head.

“Good thing I don’t need help, then,” Ryan said lightly.

Chad snorted to show his opinion of that.

Then things clicked in Ryan’s head. Chad had sought him out after the meeting broke. Ryan felt the disappointment somewhere in the back of his mind. He was hoping he’d get a little face-time with Gabriella, after all.

“Opportunity lost,” he sighed.

“Huh?” Chad asked eloquently.

Since Ryan was feeling generous, he decided he could elaborate. “I had hoped that Gabi would come find me and decide she had to sacrifice her womanly virtue to prove my gayness. Or not, as it were.”

“Yeah, just too bad they sent me.” The joke fell a little flat.

“They didn’t do that, did they?” Ryan asked haltingly.

Chad rolled his eyes and punched Ryan’s arm. “Dude, shut it.”

Something in Ryan eased and he grinned. “‘Cause, I’m just saying, probably not the smartest move of hers. Right up there with deciding I was gay and announcing it to the world.”

Chad snorted. “Please. You know you want me.”

“Oh, right, like everyone _must_ want you. Triple-threat athlete, with the t-shirts, and the hair.” He gestured vaguely at Chad’s…Chadness.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Chad agreed.

“Right. Keep thinking that,” Ryan agreed with his agreement, mocking only slightly. Really, if Chad was gonna be all arrogant jock, Ryan just _had_ to mess with him for it. It was practically a law. Or something.

Picking up on the mockery, Chad waggled his eyebrows in a challenge. “Oh, yeah? Wanna test it?”

“What are you—” But before he could finish, Chad had grabbed him and crashed their mouths together.

Ryan held completely still for an instant, feeling Chad’s lips move against his, and then thought fled and instinct took over and he grabbed whatever he could and held on.

Ryan’s back hit the wall with an audible thud. His hand was crushed between the two of them, not that he cared now that Chad was pressed up against him. The kiss turned rough and fast and needy as their mouths opened. 

Chad shoved a hand in Ryan’s hair—knocking off his hat—and tilted his head. His tongue traced the edge of Ryan’s teeth before he pulled back and bit at Ryan’s bottom lip instead. 

They both paused to breathe at the same time, a moment of stillness, of decision, and then they went right back to diving into one another. Ryan’s hand slid along Chad’s back, trying to pull him closer. Chad grunted and bit his bottom lip again, harder. The harsh sting shot right through him and Ryan groaned.

The shock of the sound broke them apart, both breathing fast and flushed. Ryan blinked dumbly at the boy right in front of him.

“Huh,” he said.

“Little gay?” Chad asked dryly.

He touched his mouth, lips feeling puffy. “Maybe a little.”

Chad scooted back a step. “You’re not gonna freak on me, are you?”

Ryan breathed out a laugh. “I’m more annoyed Gabriella’s gonna think she was right.”

“Oh. Cool.” Chad didn’t seem to have much to say after that, but he was looking at Ryan’s mouth, so…

Ryan smiled slowly. “How about this? Instead of freaking over really stupid labels, how about we use all that energy to have really hot sex? Like, a lot.”

Chad cocked his head, that grin returning. His eyes swept down Ryan and then back up again, all cocky arrogance. “I can handle that.”

***

Fin.


End file.
